Breathe
by Iawen Londea
Summary: Post-movie. Jim's not as fine as he would have his officers believe. His officers aren't as stupid as Jim would like them to be. Some Kirk whump. Kirk-Spock-Bones Friendship.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I started this fic after one of my many theatrical viewings of the new Star Trek movie. My exposure to Star Trek is very minimal, especially the original show and characters. I hope I have the characters right, as they are based solely on the 2009 movie. Constructive criticism is of course welcome, reviews greatly desired! **

**Breathe**

Captain James Kirk grimaced as he examined his bruised neck in the bathroom mirror in his quarters aboard the USS Enterprise. They had cropped up within the last few hours, providing testament to the three pairs of hands that had recently tried to kill him. Luckily no one had seen them yet-he'd let himself sleep for four hours once things had settled down, but he couldn't afford to give his battered body any more rest.

With Captain Pike still in medical bay and the Enterprise at least a couple weeks away from arriving safely at Earth, he was needed on the bridge. This left him with the dilemma of how to cover up his neck without actually drawing attention to it. As it was, he was having a difficult (and painful) time even swallowing, which would make eating interesting. Briefly he thought about going to Dr. McCoy, or "Bones" as Jim fondly called him, who was now the chief medical officer on the ship. Bones could give him a hypospray injection, as he seemed to have one for everything. But under the circumstances, Jim decided a little pain wasn't something to make a big deal about. He'd be able to manage it on his own. McCoy had enough to deal with.

Jim sifted through the clothes in the small closet. Finally, he came upon a thin black turtleneck that would wear well under the yellow Starfleet shirt and hide every discoloration on his neck. With the reputation he held with his fellow officers, he knew they'd think he was merely covering up a hickey, and hence, aside from giving him looks ranging from amusement to disapproval, would say nothing. Perfect.

Pulling on the turtleneck, he winced as the fabric clutched his neck. He pulled at it uncomfortably, feeling like couldn't breathe. Suddenly, he wanted to take it off and leave his neck open and free, but he'd have to get used to it, because he didn't want anyone to see the dark and angry bruises he sported.

Once he was fully dressed, he headed straight up to the bridge, foregoing a stop for breakfast since he couldn't even swallow his own saliva. As he walked onto the bridge, he forced himself to keep his hands away from his neck, still uncomfortable with the close quarters his turtleneck was keeping. As suspected, a few of the officers smirked at the sight of the shirt. Uhura rolled her eyes, a frown deepening on her face. Spock gave away nothing.

"I trust we're all well rested," he said to everyone, wincing internally, and perhaps a little more externally than he'd admit, at the sound of his hoarse voice. Everyone looked over at him in bewilderment but he ignored them all as he took his seat in the captain's chair.

"Yes, Captain," Uhura eventually replied. Before turning in himself, Kirk had ordered everyone on the bridge to retire for a minimum of four hours for much needed rest. He was unsurprised they'd all come back as quickly as they could, and now the officers who had briefly stepped in for them were sleeping in their quarters.

Beside him, Spock was looking at him analytically, his eyebrow slightly lifted. "Are you all right, Captain?"

Jim didn't even look over. "I'm fine, thank you, Spock." His raspy voice disallowed the adamant resolution to the discussion he'd been going for. Spock nodded once, his face showing the slightest hint of suspicion, but he said nothing.

The captain had a feeling it wouldn't be the only time he was asked.

* * *

Kirk had been on the bridge for an hour, and Spock knew the captain wasn't wearing the turtleneck simply to hide the results of an encounter with a woman. The other officers on the bridge, who had seemed to assume the same thing he had when they first saw Kirk, appeared to know better now as well. The few times Kirk spoke, his voice barely came out above a whisper; the captain had now been completely silent for almost forty minutes.

Without the warp core, the Enterprise's position in the solar system put them at two and a half weeks from Earth going at their current speed. No other galaxy-class ships were near enough to come to their assistance, so Starfleet had dispatched some smaller ships to come out and assist. They would begin arriving in just under two hours.

No one wondered anymore whether Kirk had a future with Starfleet-after the events of the last day, no one would dare expel, or even suspend, the young captain. Spock intended to withdraw his complaint anyway. Kirk had proved himself, in spite of his impulsiveness and disregard for authority, and Spock, in spite of his own self, found himself respecting and even liking Jim. The guilt over their encounter yesterday had been creeping through, as well.

"Captain," Chekhov called from the front of the bridge. "It's time for the twelve-hour check-in with Starfleet."

"Given our speed and trajectory, we're right on course," Sulu replied, providing the information to be relayed to Starfleet, who wanted to know everything that was happening aboard the Enterprise in the two weeks it'd take them to reach Earth.

"Should I open a channel to them, Sir?" Chekhov wanted to know.

Spock looked down at Kirk, who was holding his head. "Yes, open a channel, Chekhov," the captain whispered, raising his head immediately when he realized people were looking at him. He looked defeated now at the sound of his voice. "Sulu, relay the information, would you?"

When the report had been given, Kirk slumped down in his chair, one hand at his temple.

"Are you sure you are all right, Jim?" Spock asked quietly from his stance next to the chair. He knew the answer he would receive, however, and before Jim had a chance to give it, Spock reached down and pulled the fabric from Jim's turtleneck down off of his neck. The captain reached his arms up in an attempt to stop the Vulcan, but quickly gave it up as he realized the game was up.

Spock's eyes widened just slightly as he took in what he saw. There was no point in asking the cause-everyone on the bridge had seen Spock nearly strangle Kirk; they all knew that was why Kirk sounded like he did, and he knew it had caused the hideously dark bruises all along Jim's neck.

"How are you able to breathe?"

"Not well," Kirk admitted, to Spock's surprise.

The Vulcan reached down to his comm. "Dr. McCoy to the bridge," he said with enough urgency to make the doctor hurry and, although this was not his intention, get the attention of every officer on the bridge. And when Kirk didn't resist the call for medical attention, Spock really knew something was wrong.

* * *

Despite the pandemonium going on in sickbay, which Bones was now in charge of, the Acting CMO responded immediately to the page to the bridge. Unfortunately he didn't have a full staff but did have a fair share of injured people, both major and minor. Assistance would arrive shortly, for which he was relieved. As he walked to the lift that would take him onto the bridge, he couldn't help but wonder what crisis was happening now.

As he stepped onto the bridge, Bones was surprised by the tense silence in the room. All the officers were staring unabashedly at the captain's chair; Bones whipped his head towards it to see Spock standing over the captain, who was slumped in his chair, stroking his neck.

Spock noticed him immediately as Bones headed their way. "Doctor, thank you for coming so quickly. The captain does not appear to be well."

"What's wrong?" Bones asked as he pulled out his medical tricorder. He frowned as Jim slowly pulled down the turtleneck to reveal his neck. "My God," he muttered, taking in the dark blue, purple and black bruises that covered Jim's neck almost from ear to ear. He kneeled down for a closer look, noting the abrasions and redness on the skin.

"The captain has said he isn't breathing well," Spock added.

"Does it just feel like you can't breathe, or are you having a hard time actually breathing?" Bones asked Jim, observing the captain's pale face.

"I can't tell," Jim said in a whisper, his voice scratchy and rough.

"Any headache or lightheadedness?"

"Yeah, both."

"Anything else I should know about? And don't even _think _about not telling me."

"Uh," Jim hesitated for a second, then shriveled under the glare he received. "I can't swallow-at all."

Bones nodded, suspecting the diagnosis even before he scanned his patient with the tricorder. He already knew he'd have to take his friend down to sickbay. Jim had surprised him by cooperating, and the doctor hoped he would continue to do so when he found out. As he read the results from the scanner, Bones' eyes widened and he looked back at Jim, grabbing his chin and peering at his lips, which were turning a soft shade of blue.

"Dammit, Jim, you should have come to me about this last night," Bones yelled. "I'm taking you to sickbay." Jim just nodded, worrying the doctor further. From behind the captain's chair, he could see Uhura shifting uncomfortably, looking concerned.

"Is it serious?" Spock inquired.

Bones glared at him. "Yes, it's serious. His larynx is damaged, and it's causing his airway to narrow. Look, he's starting to turn to blue because he hasn't been taking in enough oxygen." He shifted his gaze towards his comm. "McCoy to sickbay-bring a stretcher to the bridge _now_," he snapped into it

Here Jim finally stopped cooperating. "I don't need carried down to sickbay, Bones," he protested quietly, rising up out of his chair. Almost instantly he went limp and fell forward; Bones caught him halfway down.

"Oh, my God!" Uhura exclaimed as the doctor eased the unconscious captain to the floor. "What's happening to him?"

"He has stood up too quickly," Spock observed.

"He would have passed out soon anyway," Bones snapped, scanning Jim once more. "He's hypoxic." He grabbed Jim's hand and looked at his fingernails-the blue at their tips was becoming more noticeable as it darkened and spread. "And he's just getting worse. Unfortunately, all I brought with me was my tricorder-I don't have anything to treat him with until we're down in sickbay."

Two orderlies and a nurse showed up with a stretcher shortly thereafter. They rushed over, pushing their way through the other officers on the bridge, who had all gathered around in concern.

"Doctor?" the nurse asked as they moved Jim onto the stretcher.

"Strangulation injury," Bones replied with a pointed glare at Spock. "Damaged larynx, marked edema resulting in a narrowed airway and hypoxia. Dyspnea and dysphagia." Bones listed off the captain's condition as they rushed the stretcher back towards the lift. Spock accompanied them, pushing the stretcher from Jim's other side, right across from Bones. As the door to the lift closed, Bones saw the anxious, stunned faces of the other officers from the bridge staring after them.

_TBC_


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I am so sorry this chapter took me so long. I didn't mean for that to happen-it took me awhile before I was satisfied. Also, a huge thanks to everyone who reviewed and/or alerted this story. I'm happy you guys like it!**

**Anyway, here it is, and it is the last chapter. Enjoy!**

Chapter Two

"You should be on the bridge," McCoy told Spock as they stepped off the lift. Spock looked over at him as everyone rushed the patient to the nearest unoccupied bed, but the doctor had resumed focused on Jim.

The hypoxia had become apparent to anyone who looked at the captain-the blue on his lips was not stark but certainly noticeable. Bones yelled for a few more nurses and then ordered the tee and turtleneck cut off of his patient. Nurse Chappell rushed over with several hyposprays. Jim's eyes remained closed, his body still.

Getting more oxygen into the young captain was the top priority. Bones silently thanked the stars that he had a competent medical staff as he grabbed each of the hyposprays that had been brought over, administering them to his friend one by one. The combination of the first few would aid in Jim's breathing and raise his oxygen levels. As he continued his ministrations, McCoy silently chastised himself.

He'd had his hands full last night with Captain Pike. Truthfully, he'd had his hands full ever since he became the Chief Medical Officer, and not because he couldn't handle his patients but because it had come so unexpectedly, as had the sheer amount of patients the medical staff had to deal with, which just kept growing as the disasters kept coming. After Jim and Spock had returned last night with the injured Pike, McCoy had spent hours with him in surgery and afterwards to repair the damage that had been done. But Pike's life hadn't been in danger then, and now Jim's was.

He should have known to check on Jim when he'd finished with Pike, or at the least have one of the other doctors do it. He'd never known his friend to willingly seek out medical attention, no matter how badly he needed it. A quick check up would have caught this long before it turned into something serious, something life-threatening.

All he could do about it now was focus on the present, get his friend through the crisis, and that was exactly what McCoy was going to do. He picked out the nylatheum hypospray, the standard treatment given for a damaged larynx. It was the best treatment they had, but it wasn't a cure. Only time could heal a damaged larynx, but in the meanwhile, Bones could help it along and make it less painful to live through. When he was sure the hypoxia was under control, he pressed the nylatheum into Jim's neck.

The chaos died almost immediately after Dr. McCoy gave the captain the last hypospray. The doctor left soon afterwards to check on his other patients, including Captain Pike. This left Spock alone with Kirk, who was still unconscious. Spock wondered if Pike should be informed of what was happening with Captain Kirk, although the Vulcan himself didn't know. McCoy hadn't acknowledged him since they stepped off the lift, and no one else had stopped to explain to him what was going on, although he had surmised that Kirk's life was no longer in danger. He figured McCoy never would have left him if it were.

As for Captain Pike, he was still immobile and in a lot of pain. Plans were to take him back to Earth with the rest of the injured when the shuttles arrived, but that would leave the Enterprise with no captain, and especially given the circumstances, Starfleet would never let that happen. Spock realized he should probably inform the officers on the bridge of what was going on so they could relay the information to Starfleet, but again that required him to wait for McCoy to return and tell him.

Staring down at the man next to him, the Vulcan's eyes traced the bruises on Kirk's neck. Only once before had Spock let his emotions control him to the point of harming another. Then, he'd been a boy, had attacked another Vulcan boy, and despite his anger, hadn't really done much damage. Even then, he'd felt shame. Now, he'd attacked a human and almost killed him. Worse, he was actually starting to like and respect Jim.

After awhile, McCoy returned. Spock saw McCoy's eyes darken when the doctor spotted him standing next to Kirk's bed. Spock frowned slightly but decided to speak with the doctor anyway.

"Doctor, I was wondering if you could talk to me about the condition of Captain Kirk."

McCoy was scanning Jim with the tricorder again. "He'll be fine. His throat will still hurt for a few days, and the bruises will take a while to clear up, but he'll live."

"Good. That's good."

The doctor eyed him but said nothing. Spock raised his eyebrow. "Surely you don't think I was hoping for a different outcome?"

"Well, you are the one who put him in this condition."

The Vulcan took in a deep breath, feelings of guilt and shame, and anger, rising up in him and threatening once again to take control. He'd promised himself more than once that he wouldn't let that happen anymore. He glanced down at Kirk and then back to McCoy.

"I don't intend to let it happen again."

"Nor do I," McCoy retorted.

* * *

When Jim awoke, he was immediately displeased at the pain he felt in his throat. "Ugh," he rasped.

"Ah, Jim, you're awake."

"I'm starting to loathe hearing those words from you," Jim told his friend, voice still rough, as he rubbed his throat.

"Yes, well, this all could have been avoided." McCoy gave the captain a pointed look.

"Bones, I didn't know how bad it was, I swear!" Jim protested. "I was breathing just fine last night. I think. What time is it? How long have I been here?"

"Relax, it's only been a couple of hours."

"Oh, good. So, no permanent damage?"

"No, you'll make a full recovery, but you were lucky on this one, Jim. If I hadn't gotten to the bridge when I did, you could have died. You were hardly breathing."

Jim's brows furrowed in confusion. "But I was breathing just fine last night. It wasn't until this morning that I started... having problems."

Nodding, McCoy explained to Jim his injuries. "Your larynx was damaged, a strangulation injury. It's a progressive condition. The symptoms can take up to 24 hours to present themselves, so you may have felt fine last night but you were getting slowly worse."

"See? Why would I have come to you last night? I didn't know anything was wrong. Besides, you were with Captain Pike."

"You still should have come to me this morning," McCoy snapped. "And don't argue that one, you know it's true. I swear, Jim, you have got to have more consideration for your health."

"Okay, I'm sorry. So... you're supposed to be treating this... whatever it was?"

McCoy huffed. "A damaged larynx caused by strangulation."

"Right. So, why does it still hurt so much? Can't you give me some hypospray for pain?"

"I can't believe you withheld a life-threatening injury from me and now you're complaining about a little bit of pain," McCoy snapped, rolling his eyes. "It probably hurt a hell of a lot more a few hours ago than it does now."

"True." Jim swallowed, and promptly beamed. "Hey, I am healing! I can swallow now."

"Imagine that. Doctors doing their job."

"So, since I'm on the mend and everything, I should get back to the bridge. The shuttles will be here soon." Jim moved to hop off the bed he was laying in but was immediately pushed back down.

"You aren't leaving sickbay until I say you do."

Jim shook his head vigorously. "No, I have to be on the bridge. I'm the captain, I have responsibilities."

"Well, they can wait a little bit longer. You need more rest, Jim. I'll give you something to put you out if it comes to it."

Accepting defeat, but only temporarily, the captain lay back in the bed, grumbling. "Oh, sure, but you won't give me anything for the pain I'm in."

"If you really want me to I can," McCoy threatened.

"I'm good," the patient squeaked, realizing he probably wouldn't be able to escape sickbay. He nuzzled his head back into the pillow, wondering how long his sentence would be.

Spock came in a few minutes later. "Captain, you're looking better."

"Thanks, Spock. How are things on the bridge?"

The Vulcan frowned. "You don't _sound _any better."

"His voice'll get better in a few days," McCoy snapped, and Jim whined quietly at the prognosis.

"The officers on the bridge were all very concerned for you, Captain," Spock informed Jim. "I have assured them you will recover. Lieutenant Uhura sent a message to Starfleet to inform them of what happened. Since Doctor McCoy insists you'll be able to resume command in a few hours, they've decided to proceed with the plans to move Captain Pike back to Earth. Repairs should be speeding up with the extra people."

Jim felt his face growing hot, not appreciating that he wasn't needed. _Now I'll never get Bones to spring me sooner,_ he mused to himself grumpily.

Spock fell quiet for a minute, and when he spoke again, his voice was lower than before. "I owe you an apology, Captain Kirk, for what happened yesterday that led to this."

Jim shook his head. "Spock-"

"No. My actions were inexcusable and could have resulted in your death. As Dr. McCoy tells it, they very nearly did."

"Well, I owe you an apology too, Spock. What I said... I didn't mean it, I was just trying to get you to show that you were emotionally compromised. It was mean, and I'm sorry. As for this whole strangulation thing.. well, don't worry about. And besides, you weren't the only one."

"What?" Spock and McCoy asked in unison.

"Wasn't just you," Kirk repeated. "Nero tried to strangle me too, and he got a lot closer to succeeding than you did. Nice timing on disabling the drill yesterday, by the way. But then his right-hand picked me up by my throat-that was uncomfortable. I saved myself that time," he added with a smirk.

McCoy looked outraged. Jim waited for the yelling to start, but Spock intervened quickly.

"I believe you and I had best let the captain rest for the remainder of his time here," he said to the doctor. McCoy, right on the verge of beginning his tirade, blinked and then agreed, glaring at his patient.

"We'll talk about this later, Jim," he promised as he lead the Vulcan out of the bay. Jim grinned, happy to be off the hook for the moment, and rubbed his neck as he relaxed.

In the hallway, McCoy muttered under his breath until Spock addressed him. "Doctor, I don't believe any amount of yelling or even asking could make the captain change his behaviors when it comes to his health. However, in the future, we will _both _be here to ensure something like this doesn't happen again."

The doctor regarded him for a moment and nodded, feeling relieved to have someone to share the burdens that often came with being a close friend to James Kirk.

**The End**

**I hope the end wasn't too abrupt, and I hope that this chapter met your expectations! I wasn't expecting the amount of response I got for chapter one, LOL. Reviews are greatly appreciated!**


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